


Wrong Directions

by virkatjol



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:11:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virkatjol/pseuds/virkatjol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Cam didn't make it through the time jump in Continuum. What if Qetesh captured him instead? Written for stargateland's AU challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Directions

He's almost there, just a few more steps. The burning on his side explodes as she hits him with another blast. This one does more than just graze him.

His feet come out from under him and he's glad for running in the center of the narrow path. So close, so close… There's determination in his heart but sometimes it's just not enough.

Like today. His mind reels with dread as her heel digs into his back.

"Cameron Mitchell." She bends closer to his ear. The noise of the chaos dying down so her whisper can be heard. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm betting you'll be useful."

"Fuck you." He tries again but her shoe presses to the left and finds where she's injured him. "Goddamned Gou'ald." It's the last thing out of his lips before her foot connects with his head and he loses consciousness.

*

It's warm where he's at. Or he's warm. He can't quite make out the sights and sounds yet. His back hurts. His stomach rolls as he opens his eyes and just as quickly closes them to try to fight the nausea.

After a few deep breaths he tries again. Slowly. It's dark, probably a good thing for his head, and he's in a tent. Or maybe not. It could just be a canopied bed… He can't move that well but Cam manages to get up onto his elbows. It jars the wound on his back and he tamps down the cry of pain.

"You're awake then." It's an observation from across the room. "All your friends are dead, your injured pretty badly and you're now a slave to the goddess Qetesh. How are you feeling?"

"Had worse." He coughs after he says it. Blood stains his palm. A bold lie and from the laughter behind him, not a very good one.

"I'm sure." She gets up and kneels in front of his face. "However we can work together." A palm caresses his face and he tries to imagine it's Vala touching him and not the snake that inhabits her body.

Poor, sweet Vala. He'd give anything to get her back. Even the times she was impossibly annoying they were better then her being trapped behind this thing. "I don't work with false Gods."

"Well, that's one option." Qetesh stands and backs away, far enough so he can see her. "That one probably will end in a slow, painful death."

"There's an option that doesn't end there?" The sickness seems to be passing. Everything is spinning a little, but it's becoming manageable. The ache in his side is getting worse. Maybe blacked out was a better place to be.

"Of course, If I'd wanted you dead…"

"I wouldn't be alive?"

"Precisely. I don't tolerate insolence. Not from my slaves and certainly not from my enemies. However, you… You seemed like there were more options. I thought I'd see if you were interested." She pulls a huge knife out of the table near the bed and walks over to him.

Cam almost wishes she'd just end it. He can't imagine that what she has planned for him will be any better then just dying. The will to live in his heart is strong though. It's just who he is. The edge of the blade is running down his back and he does his best not to flinch.

She doesn't speak as she turns the knife and adds a little more pressure. It slices right through his BDU's and exposes his back.

"I'm not sure if these options are any better than death if they include rape."

"Who said anything about rape?" She tugs the fabric free, it was all but ruined from his blood anyway, and throws the tattered pieces to the corner. She cuts off the rest of his clothes as well. He's the one that brought it up. "I do enjoy the view of a nice male specimen."

If he's trying to escape she can't tell. He should be too weak to really attempt it now. The knife is replaced and she pulls out the jar of ointment, sets it close to him on the floor and then goes to retrieve a few clothes and warm water.

"Are you-"

"Yes." She starts cleaning his wound. It's not quite as bad as she thought it would be. The staff weapon burns as well. The flesh is charred and surrounded by red, inflamed skin. It's slightly infected but her special lotion will help heal it.

The first touch makes him hiss but she's gentle. Surprisingly. He waits as she cleanses the injury, waits for her to inflict more pain. His teeth clench as he lies there waiting.

It never happens. She finishes with the water and sets the basin on the floor. He can see the blood staining the water and the flecks of dead, burned skin floating around the surface. He has to choke down the vomit that threatens him at the sight. The ointment from her jar is next and it's actually soothing.

"Can't you just heal me with your hand device?" Cam pants the words, teeth clenched from the pain. Her hands feel like Vala. It's hard to know the difference when he's not looking at her. Sometimes even when he is. It's the eyes. The anger and evil behind them now. Not the insatiable curiosity and laughter he's used to seeing.

She clucks her tongue at him. "What fun would that be? This way i get to touch you."

"Your touch is-"

"Repellant?" Clearly, the word isn't what he was looking for. If rumors are true… She lets her hand trail down his back to cover his ass. The globe of flesh is firm under her palm and she knows she made a good choice. Her finger trails along his crack, not pressing between the cheeks just teasing as if she will. "We both know you felt something for this body I'm in, the woman suppressed by my will. Ba'al kept very good records about everything SG1 did." She leans closer to his ear. "Who SG1 did…"

"I've never been-"

"Don't lie to me." If he was looking at her he would have seen the gold flair within her eyes. "It doesn't matter. My host is never escaping. She's far to lovely and it's easy to sway men to my whim while I inhabit her body."

The only sound in the room is her hands sliding over his skin. Cam tries to lose himself to the blackness he had before but every time he closes his eyes all he can feel is Vala touching him. Qetesh's strokes are more efficient and less playful but it's still _her_ hands.

The pin prick in his neck makes him jump. "What the fuck?"

The bed moves as she gets up and snaps her fingers. A servant is there to clean up the mess and then gone just as quickly. After making sure her orders are followed she kneels in front of him again. This time her hand is on his head, fingers trailing through his hair. "Did you say 'fuck'?" Her mouth moves closer to his, hovering, her breath wafting across his lips. "Not yet, darling, I prefer a vigorous lover. You're useless to me right now. That was for sleep. We can't have you flailing around and injuring yourself more."

The brush of her lips across his is the last thing he feels before a drugged haze turns quickly into sleep.

He dreams of Vala.

*

The next few days are a drug filled haze. He's rolled onto his side sometimes, too weak or doped up to do it himself. Qetesh is an expert at preventing pressure sores on her captives. He's naked. No modesty sheet is provided as Qetesh makes sure the room is kept warm enough. Noe one looks upon his body as if a nude male within this room is normal. A nude practically cationic one at that. In times of wakefulness he feels some shame in his situation but most of the time he just dreams of his team, the SGC and Vala Mal Doran. His torture is almost worse for remembering her. He knows what's underneath and he craves to have her back.

The worst part is that Qetesh knows he wants that too.

*

"You call for her in your sleep." She's sprawled out next to him in bed. Her hands sicken and delight all at once as she runs her fingers along the lines and curves of his chest. It kills him that even part of him enjoys it.

"No…" He's sure she wouldn't lie. It doesn't matter, he'll deny it till he's dead.

Her fingers wrap around his ear and pulls him up to look at her. "You do." She leans closer and smiles, that big, Vala-esque smile. It makes him forget, just for a moment, that she's not Vala. "You love her."

Cam says nothing.

"Tell me you don't." She throws her head back with laughter. "You can't. Even now with no hope." Her mouth covers his, kissing him. "No hope."

There's no response from his lips. He doesn't try to escape but he doesn't kiss her back. No matter how much he yearns to have her lips move against his once more. It's not really _her_.

"Silly man." She brushes the tear away. He hadn't felt it fall. "You should just forget Vala. You're mine now."

She leaves him then, but not before sending him into the drugged state he's been existing in for a week.

"You're almost healed…" The words drift into his ears before the drugs take him. It fills him with dread.

*

The first time is like a haze. There is no doubt that he's been doped for this too, but she's not taking chances. The rope burns his wrists. She hovers above him. He can't stop himself. He tries.

"Vala…"

Qetesh grips his chin, lowers her face close to his. lets her hair drape around them. "It's Vala you're inside. Go ahead and believe that it's her. If that's what you need to do…"

He grits his teeth and tries to stop himself. It's no use. Her heat is enticing no matter what. He gives himself over.

There's shame and grief but in the end it's all he has left of her. His team is dead. There's no one looking for him.

Maybe someday the Tokra will show up and rescue Vala.

Maybe.

It's all he can live on right now. He has to try to live.

For her.

The End


End file.
